'Simple, extremely predictable yet enchanting
calm, serene and moreso with a willful unmistakable vigour
unimaginably petite wrists and an indomitable spirit
anger, protest, rebellion and silence'.
Nope, I am not making a list of pick the odd word out lines.
There could not have stood a better example. None of us are typecast-able. No one word defines any of us. We're all a shabby cluster of infinite qualities and possibilities.
We meet ourselves in a thousand disguises time and again, within ourselves. Some we radiate, some we reject and yet more that we do not understand at all.
It's all like a linen of quintessential multiple realities. Just as our problems, so as our souls. Well, I wish that in life, may we all be what ever all we can be.